


a dance at 11, a pumpkin at midnight

by amaronith



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fake Out Make Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 10:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17765249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaronith/pseuds/amaronith
Summary: A job for The Gentleman requires two of the Mighty Nein to sneak into a fancy party disguised as guests, and Fjord and Caleb draw the short straws.With Fjord harboring a secret crush on Caleb and Caleb, thankfully, unaware of that, will Fjord be able to last the night?





	a dance at 11, a pumpkin at midnight

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for iva_illustrates, who prompted "Hurt/comfort, domesticity, dressed up (I am a-okay with anything)!" when they signed up for the exchange!
> 
> I hope you enjoy your gift, dear! Happy Valentine's Day!

The job for the Gentleman was simple, all things considered. Sneak into the party, break into the target's office, find the information the Gentleman was looking for, and get out with no one the wiser.

The only problem was the invitation called for a plus one, and no one could agree to who should go in together as part of the party, and who should be on the break-in team.

Beau was staunchly refusing to go in as part of the party, citing that she was far better at information gathering than schmoozing. Yasha was off wandering again and so was just plain unavailable. Jester was needed elsewhere for her forgery skills, and Nott was needed for the break in itself.

Caleb looked between Fjord and Caduceus. “That leaves us three to decide then-”

“Actually, I think you and Fjord should do it,” Caduceus said with a soft smile. “You're both the most charming of the three of us.”

“Now that's not true, Caduceus - you're plenty charming,” Fjord protested, but Caduceus smiled and shook his head.

“You are kind to say so, but even so, I know where my strength lies, and infiltration via party guest is not it. I can disguise myself as one of the guards.”

Fjord turned to Caleb. “Guess that leaves you an’ me, huh, Cay?”

Caleb gave him a nervous smile. “Indeed, big man.”

That’s when Jester descended on him, and Beau grabbed Caleb, and they were dragged to a tailor.

“You can’t just show up to a party like this wearing _whatever_ , Fjord! You and Caleb need nice suits!”

“Plus, the cost of the suits is being covered by someone else,” Beau said with a significant look - they were getting more careful about using The Gentleman’s name in public - as she half dragged Caleb. “Which means we need to make you assholes look fancy as fuck. So. Tailored suits, and a really intense bath.”

The last part had been directed at Caleb, who just scowled at her, but didn't argue, and Fjord sighed.

Better to go with the flow than protest it too much, this time.

\--

Fjord thought that maybe, just _maybe_ he should've protested a little bit, when the tailor had him stripped down to his smalls, looked him up and down like he was a piece of meat, and after that… Fjord was pretty sure that he was going to have nightmares about tape measures and sweaty palms for weeks.

“You have brought me a challenge and a gift,” the tailor said to Beau, even as his eyes never left Fjord's stomach, and Caleb was already scrambling to get back into his clothes like Frumpkin scrambled to get out of a tub of water. “I will make them suits that look _fantastique_.”

“I knew you would. By tomorrow morning, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course! I will not rest!”

“That's what I like to hear, my good man,” Beau clapped the tailor on the shoulder with an almost feral smile. “Fjord, get your pants on and go with Jester to the bathhouse. Caleb and I have a date at the Pillow Trove.”

“We do?” Caleb asked, but then Beau had an iron grip on his arm and the two were gone.

Jester beamed sunnily at Fjord. “You don't have to put your pants back on if you don't want to, Fjord. I certainly wouldn't mind.”

Fjord could feel his face heating up as he turned away from her, and the nods of the attendants in the shop. “Today's not the day I walk through Zadash in just my smalls and boots, Jes.”

“But that means there is a someday that you'll do that.”

“Sure, and on that day, Caleb will get out of his wheelchair and dance,” Fjord muttered as he tugged on his shirt.

“Caleb _is_ a pretty good dancer - you're so lucky, Fjord!”

Fjord sighed heavily.

\--

“You would think,” Caleb said as the attendant washed his hair for him. The only reason that he was even as relaxed as he was was because of Beauregard's presence, and the fact that the moment the attendant tried anything, Beau would kill her in less than an eyeblink. “That this is something we would be doing the day of the ball, no?”

“Nope. If we did this tomorrow, you’d be a bundle of nerves and you won’t-” She glanced at the attendant. “-enjoy yourself.”

“Beauregard-”

“I also know you've got, you know, a thing. About things. So I wanted to make sure there was as much time as I could get you between this and tomorrow. So you have time to wind down.”

Caleb closed his eyes, so he could at least pretend it had to do with the soap in his hair and not the sudden rush of fondness he had for his friend. “Thank you, Beauregard.”

“Yeah. Well. You're, uh, you're welcome.”

There was a rush of warm water over Caleb's head as the attendant leaned down to his ear. “You have a very good sister.”

“I have the best sister,” Caleb whispered back.

“After this, you and I are getting a massage, because I deserve a gorgeous woman rubbing me down after dealing with your bullshit.”

Caleb glanced up at the attendant. “Sometimes. She is _sometimes_ the best sister.”

\---

Fjord sighed as he and Jester soaked in hot water. “Jes, I don't know what you and Beau and planning-”

“It has nothing to do with your giant crush on Caleb, if that's what you're talking about.”

Fjord grumbled, but settled more into the water. “Oh no?”

“Nope! This is all about Caleb's issues. And Beau knows more about it than me, but, like, if Caleb gets all this relaxing stuff done _today_ , he'll be even more relaxed tomorrow than he would be if he got the relaxing stuff done tomorrow. And he won't get that stuff done unless he knows you are, too. But because _you_ are not a stinky ball of issues like Caleb, you need less stuff.”

Fjord wondered if the fact that he understood that perfectly meant he was spending too much time with these people. “Jester.”

“Feeyooooord.”

Fjord glanced over at her. “So what is happening with Caleb, exactly?”

“He has issues with putting his head under water, or something - Beau never said why - so I told her that the Pillow Trove had some nice services where they'll wash your hair for your without dunking your head and stuff and Beau said that's what she'd get Caleb so that he was clean and smelled nice for tomorrow without being a mess of nerves already before the job even started.”

Fjord let his mind drift to what it would feel like to be the one that Caleb let wash his hair, to watch that bright hair turn dark copper as water ran over the silken strands that slipped between his fingers.

Fjord jolted himself out of his daydream when he heard Jester giggle. “Jester-”

“Don't worry, Fjord - I won't tell anyone that you have bath time fantasies about _Caaaaaaayleb_ ,” Jester said, her voice a singsong. “Besides, you get him all to yourself tomorrow! And remember what I said about dancing? You'll have plenty of time of oogle him.”

Fjord sank under the water as Jester laughed, until he could convince himself the flush to his face was from the heat of the water, and not the mental image of him and Caleb waltzing across a dance floor.

\---

The plan was going perfectly, with one exception: the tailor did an _amazing_ job with Caleb's suit, the blue contrasting nicely with Caleb's red hair, clinging to Caleb's body without being too tight. Caleb looked nice. He looked respectable. He looked like he was born to wear such things at such parties.

He looked, quite frankly, fucking _gorgeous_.

Fjord felt awkward in his own suit, by comparison, clumsy and oafish and like he was a teenager all over again, with his legs too long and never where they were supposed to be.

But Caleb stared at him, and Fjord felt even more awkward than ever before.

_It's just one night. One night, and then Caleb can go back to not seeing you at all and you'll be fine._

(“Remember,” Beau had said to them as the others began to disguise themselves as guards. “If we need you to cause a distraction-”

“Nott or Jester will message us, yes yes, I got it.” Caleb snagged the invitation from Beau's hand, though it had been obvious to anyone who knew her that she had let him. “Thank you, Beauregard.”

“You're welcome. Knock 'em dead, kids.”)

Fjord took a deep breath to calm his nerves, but all it did was drag Caleb's scent into his nose and distract him.

All he had done so far, to be fair, was lurk against the wall and watch the party, keeping on the lookout for their mark as he watched Caleb be an almost alarming social butterfly. As charming as Fjord could be, he didn't think he could pull off what Caleb was doing.

“You should relax,” Caleb murmured once he had made his way back over to Fjord, leaning in close as he wrapped his arm around Fjord's waist. “You look guilty before the party's even started.”

Fjord turned to look at Caleb, their noses almost brushing. “I never was good at these sorts of parties, nevermind we still don't know what kind of distraction we're doing when the others need it.”

Caleb leaned in close, like he was kissing his way along Fjord's jaw. “I'm sure we can think of something soon - we need to get into position now.”

Fjord took a slow, deep breath. He could taste it on his tongue, Caleb's nerves and arousal - heady and stronger than any perfume the finest dressed lady there would be wearing.

“Are you suggesting we find some place to make out?” Fjord asked, pitching his voice just barely above a whisper.

Caleb grinned, tapping the tip of Fjord's nose. “Right on the button, _schatz_. Are you all right with that?”

“What's swapping a little spit between friends?” Fjord replied, aiming for airy and carefree and falling flat and short. At Caleb's concerned look he just nodded. “I'm fine with it, Caleb. Truly.”

“Good. Come, we have to get into position.”

Caleb squeezed his hand and lead him to their position.

It was risky, and stupid, and sure, Caleb had said it was okay, but what if it wasn't?

“Here,” Caleb murmured. “We need to be here to ensure the others can pull this off-”

Fjord went with his gut and pulled Caleb in close and kissed him.

This wasn't how Fjord wanted their first kiss to go, hurried in the hall of some noble prick with more money than sense and more sense than morals.

However, it was the first kiss they were going to get, and Fjord was going to make the most of it.

He licked along Caleb's lower lip, before his breath left him in a rush as Caleb switched positions with him. “Caleb-” Fjord gasped out as he felt hot palms almost like a brand through the fine fabric of his suit trousers.

“It's unfair, you know, how good you look,” Caleb practically growled at him. “I paid that damn tailor to make you the most well dressed man at this gods be damned party, and now I find I don't like it one bit.”

Ah. The game was on. Fjord reached up and ran his fingers through the silken strands that had escaped Caleb's ponytail. “You were always possessive, sweetheart.”

“Beyond that,” Caleb murmured between kisses, “they look at you like you're a pretty ornament on my arm they can steal from me.” Caleb kissed his way along Fjord's jaw, nuzzling aside his shirt and jacket collar to get to Fjord's pulse. “Those fools, they're too focused on the breadth of your shoulders and how trim your waist is and the strength in your thighs.”

Fjord felt himself flush as Caleb listed parts of his body like a butcher at the chopping block. “Caleb…?”

“But I know the truth, my love, of your greatest quality.”

“My rugged good looks?”

“Don't be dense, Fjord, it's unbecoming of you.” Caleb sucked a dark hickey onto Fjord's throat, right over his pulse. “Your _heart_ , and how _kind_ you are.” Caleb's hands ran up Fjord's sides like they were greedy for touch, to feel Fjord's skin through the fabric of his suit. “You are one of the kindest people I've ever had the privilege to know.”

Fjord let out an embarrassingly eager whine. “ _Caleb-_ ”

Someone cleared their throats behind them. “'scuse me, sers, but no one is supposed to be up here.”

“Ah, no?” Caleb asked, his expression guileless as though he didn't have Fjord flushed and wanting against the wall. “Forgive us, we didn't know - we were just looking for a place to be, ah, alone? You know how it is when your lover dresses up pretty for you.”

The guards chuckled with Caleb as Fjord fought to get his breath back, to sort his clothes back out to normal and to hide the evidence of the effect Caleb's words had on him. “All the same, serah, we have to ask you to take it elsewhere.”

Caleb sighed heavily. “Of course, of course.”

Meanwhile, in the back of his head, Fjord heard 'Fjord, we have the information the Gentleman wants. Mission successful. Donotreplytothismessage.’

\--

They righted their clothing and made their way back to the main ballroom, with Fjord's skin still feeling a bit too hot and tight - he didn't know how Caleb kept his composure.

“Would you care for a dance, Fjord?” Caleb murmured.

( _“Caleb_ is _a pretty good dancer - you're so lucky, Fjord!”_ )

“Of course, sweetheart,” Fjord murmured back to him, feeling Caleb shiver against him. “You know I'd never pass up a chance to dance with you.” 

Caleb licked his lips. “Just follow my lead.”

“Always,” Fjord whispered, and it didn't feel like they were talking about dancing anymore.

The waltz was simple enough to follow as Caleb led Fjord around the dance floor.

Caleb leaned in close to Fjord's ear. “We will leave soon.”

“Of course. I-”

Caleb's hand was low on Fjord's back as he pressed him closer. “But one more dance couldn't hurt, hm?”

Had the first song ended already? Fjord hadn't been paying attention, too lost in Caleb's scent and the deep blue of his eyes. “Caleb…”

“Yes, Fjord?”

“What's… what is going on here, exactly? This doesn't feel like it's just a role…”

Caleb's fingers tensed and dug into Fjord's back. “We'll talk later.”

Fjord nodded, but he lowered his eyes and focused on the feel of the dance.

It would probably be the last time he and Caleb danced at all.

\--

They left the ball arm in arm, and Fjord kept his eyes ahead of him, so he didn't have to watch Caleb's face as he told Fjord the whole thing was for the job.

It probably would hurt less that way, maybe.

“Fjord, everything I said in there-”

“Was for the job, I understand-”

Caleb tugged him to a stop. “ _Fjord_ , I'm trying to tell you every word of it was _true_. I understand if that makes you uncomfortable-”

Fjord spun and kissed him, cradling Caleb's jaw in his hands. “You really get that possessive about me?”

Caleb ran a hand over Fjord's hair. “Every time someone flirts with you, I want to set their eyebrows on fire.”

Fjord chuckled as he leaned in to kiss Caleb again. “You have nothing to worry about, Caleb.”

“Oh?”

“Nope. Because you and I make it work. Always. There's no one else I want that with.”

Caleb searched Fjord's face, and whatever he was looking for he apparently found because he pulled Fjord into a deep kiss. “Let's get back to the others, before I get us in trouble with the Crownsguard.”

“And ruin these lovely suits. It would be a shame to ruin them when you look so fine in yours.”

Caleb kissed Fjord again before reluctantly pulling away and lacing Fjord's arm through his. “You already know how I feel about how you look in that suit.”

“I dunno, I wouldn't mind hearing it again.”


End file.
